


Stolen Moment

by CascadianRain



Series: So Long to Devotion [11]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Breaking Celibacy Vows, F/M, Plans For The Future, Romantic Fluff, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 20:11:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13015254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CascadianRain/pseuds/CascadianRain
Summary: 9:37 Dragon, the next morningCullen brings Hawke a warning, but Sebastian’s kisses make for a good distraction from the world falling apart outside their walls.





	Stolen Moment

The night before was a dream, manifested by his prayers to Andraste.

Sebastian might have believed that if he hadn’t woken in his chair, propped against the door, to the sound of Charlie retching in a waste bucket.

After a few hours of pitiful moaning, cursing Isabela, and carefully sipping water, Charlie was well enough for Sebastian to escort her home. He hurried her through a back entrance to the Chantry, one he’d used many times in his first years there to escape the ever-watchful Sisters.

Sebastian paused before opening the door, to give Charlie a moment to tug up her hood as far as it would go. Even so, when the late morning light hit, she hissed and drew back. Sebastian found her hand and held it firm. When she gave a tentative squeeze, he led her into the streets of Hightown.

When they reached the Hawke Estate, Charlie slid into the dark foyer with a sigh of relief. She walked wearily into the front room, unclasping her cloak and dropping it to the floor as she went. As he had so often before, Sebastian fell into watching her, finding the most mundane things—like leaning her staff against the wall and tidying the pile of letters on her desk—to be the most precious, treasured moments. It was in these quiet spaces, between negotiations and arguments and battles, that Charlotte Hawke could _breathe_ , and stretch into the life that should be hers, without the squabbles of Templars and mages getting in the way.

She must have felt him watching her. Charlie glanced up, her face unguarded in its uncertainty. A question lingered there. Like a shot, Sebastian realized: there needn’t be a distance between them any longer. These moments of hers—he could be a part of them now, too.

As he walked toward her, certain he was trembling with the effort not to run, a shy smile crept over Charlie’s face. _Shy._ The Champion of Kirkwall, who dueled the Arishok and told off the Knight-Commander to her face, looked as shy as a blushing maid at a Midsummer dance.

When he reached her, she whispered, “It was real?”

“Very,” he said, his voice low.

Charlie bit her lower lip, unable to hold back a smile. “Does that mean...I can do this?” She stretched up and touched her lips to his in a soft kiss. A warm growl hummed deep in Sebastian’s chest and his arms snaked around Charlie’s waist. She wrapped her own around his neck as their kiss deepened, her whole body pressed against his.

A contented hum vibrated through Charlie’s throat and she held him tight.

“I should have kissed you years ago,” Sebastian said softly. “To the void with waiting. What’s the point if we fall to our enemies tomorrow? All of these years we could have been together...wasted.”

Charlie kissed the tip of his nose. “No, we needed those years to be who we are today.”

A harsh pounding on the front door struck fear through Charlie like a lightning bolt. Her fingers, gently holding his arms a moment before, gripped him painfully. Her whole body was stiff as a pole, her eyes wide.

A muffled shout through the door: “Champion! We need to speak.”

“Oh Maker, _Maker_ , no, it’s happened—”

Charlie slithered out of Sebastian’s grasp and was three long strides toward the hidden escape in the cellars before Sebastian said, “Wait.”

He stood between the door and Charlie, his arms crossed over his chest. He hadn’t bothered to don his armor that morning, thinking instead of seeing Charlie home quickly, and now he felt dreadfully exposed. But he was a prince and an archer: even unarmed, he could protect her.

Bodahn hovered near the front door, his hands worrying each other and a fretful grimace on his face. Sebastian gave him a curt nod and he opened the door.

Knight-Captain Cullen stepped inside, his usually grumpy demeanor elevated to irate.

“S-sorry to keep you waiting, messere.” Bodahn backed swiftly away.

Spotting Sebastian and Hawke in the front room, Cullen strode in. “Then you are home.”

“Where else would I be?” Hawke’s voice was a touch too high to be casual.

Cullen attempted to move around Sebastian, but he side-stepped in his way. “Say what you came to say.”

The Knight-Captain’s amber gaze darkened with his frown and for the longest moment he stayed where he was, then he eased a half-pace back. Ignoring Sebastian completely, he spoke to Hawke. “A group of Templars slunk back into the Gallows this morning before dawn. They confessed to me that they’d spent the night outside your home in the hopes of speaking to you about the, shall we say, _scene_ at the foot of the Viscount’s Tower yesterday. They were under the impression that you did not return last night.”

“I tend to avoid groups of Templars when alone. Let’s call it survival instincts.”

At that, Cullen’s expression softened with remorse. “I understand, Champion. It is not—” He caught himself with an annoyed sound. “The current climate is regretful. However, inciting my recruits against the Knight-Commander is not advisable. The Templars outside your home were in favor of your suggestion that _you_ be the next Viscountess—”

At that, Sebastian took his eyes from Cullen to stare at Charlie, who looked just as startled as he. “You think so, too?”

“I was _joking!_ Andraste’s tits, can’t anyone in this city take a joke?”

“I must warn you that any move against the Knight-Commander would be unwise,” Cullen said. “Your little followers have been reprimanded, though I left out the specifics of why in my official report.” The stiffness of his rank ebbed and Cullen ran a distracted hand over his tightly controlled curls. “ _Officially,_ I am disappointed that the Champion no longer supports the Knight-Commander, but I hope that we may continue to work together for the benefit of the city.”

A tense silence settled before Hawke said, “I understand.” Cullen nodded and turned to go, but paused when Hawke added, “I’m doing all of this for Kirkwall. Not mages, not the Chantry—but for all the people who just want to live their lives in peace. Who don’t want to worry about not coming home when they go out to market in the morning.”

Cullen bowed stiffly. “You and I have a great amount in common, Serah Hawke. I wish you well.”

After the door closed behind him, Charlie blew out a breath. “That man is not in an enviable position.”

“At least we know that you’re not in any danger from the Templars.”

“Safe for now. But I’m glad I don’t have to go down to the Gallows today.” She shuddered. “Hate that place.”

Sebastian brushed Charlie’s hair over her shoulder, caressing her neck as he did. She closed her eyes with a soft _mmm_ , and leaned into it. How strange and _wonderful_ it was to be able to simply touch her now, when only a day before he’d have had to fight down the urge. “There are no walls on Thedas that can hold you.”

“You’ll need to keep reminding me of that in the coming months,” she said. “Listen, by way of thanks for your, um, _assistance_ last night and, well also this morning, let me make you dinner tonight.”

Sebastian caught her up in his arms with a mischievous smile. “Weren’t you going to do that anyway, lassie? It’s been nearly two weeks since our last one.”

“But now it’s _special._ ” Charlie giggled from her cocoon against his chest.

Her eyes danced as she peered up at him and love for this strange woman lit Sebastian from his very core. “Every dinner with you is special, _mo cridhe_.” His voice went deep and Charlie shivered in his embrace. He leant down and captured her lips with his, a moan in his chest rising when her tongue slid across his. It was impossible to believe that this brazen lassie belonged to him, and that he willingly gave himself, completely, in return.

It must be a dream. But if so, he prayed to never wake.

\+ + +

The day slid by at an agonizing pace. Sebastian tidied his cell, swept the second floor, cleaned the pooled wax at the base of the Statue of Andraste and replaced the spent candles with new. And staunchly avoided the Grand Cleric.

No one asked him to do these things. Since Elthina refused to re-hear his vows, he wasn’t a Brother-initiate and therefore not responsible for any duties in the Chantry. He’d kept them up over the years to maintain his cover: a penitent man working to regain the Grand Cleric’s favour. No thoughts of Starkhaven, only devotion to the Maker. Any spies sent by the jackals would have little to report.

Today he did the chores to keep his mind from wandering to Charlotte. To pass the time before dinner. Now he’d washed and put on clean, nice clothes—lacing his deerskin breeches rather tight to discourage his unchaste thoughts—and there was _still_ time to wait.

But he couldn’t wait a moment longer. Every time he thought of her, his heart raced and a pulse of heat shot straight down through him. Maker take him, he needed her like he needed to breathe.

He’d never covered the length of the Chantry so quickly. And not since the assassin six years before had he crossed Hightown with such a narrow focus to his destination. The silver shields flanking the Hawke Estate door caught the orange light of the late afternoon sun. A beacon guiding him home.

Chevalier’s tail thumped the carpet in sleepy welcome, and for once, Sebastian didn’t pause to scratch behind the Mabari’s ears. He thought he heard Bodahn humming to himself in the study, and didn’t bother calling out a hello. Only one person mattered and each hour apart from her had felt like a year.

He found her in the kitchen, standing at the cooking pot on the fire, her hair loosely held up with pins. She turned in surprise when she heard his step, her skin rosy from a bath.

“Sebastian! You’re early!”

Without knowing how it happened, he was beside her, catching her in an embrace and his lips finding hers. She melted against him with a moan as the kiss deepened. His hand pressed down her back, feeling nothing at all beneath her short housecoat. His need for her flared. Charlie’s fingers pushed into his hair, and Sebastian’s other hand tugged at the knot keeping the housecoat closed.

“Are you sure?” Charlie whispered, her breath hitching.

This wasn’t a return to his dark days before the Chantry, nor did it feel like breaking a vow to the Maker. For so long, he’d feared what he’d become without his vows. They kept him in check when he needed restraint, and now he needed them no longer. He knew his path at last.

This was no fall from the Maker’s light, it was a union of two souls that were stronger, _brighter_ , together.

Sebastian gazed down at Charlie, filled with an infinite love that he’d never found in prayer. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

\+ + +

The rooftop garden of the Estate was a place removed from time. The distant sound of the ocean carried over the roofs, entwining with the occasional noise from Hightown. Glass baubles set around the unruly garden held dancing flames that gave the impression of fireflies. Charlie snuggled in against Sebastian’s chest, her legs tented over his lap, his arm around her shoulders. There’d hardly been a moment all night when they hadn’t been touching in some small way.

Sebastian still wasn’t sure he wouldn’t wake with a jolt in his cold cell, and all of this wonder would fade with the sunrise.

“Have you given serious consideration to becoming Viscountess? You’d be incredible.”

Charlie snorted and continued to tie and untie knots in the laces of Sebastian’s shirt. “Impossible. Meredith would never stand for it. If I weren’t her pet mage-killer she’d have disappeared me years ago.”

“She couldn’t touch you if you were Viscountess. Cullen would support you.”

“Cullen isn’t Knight-Commander.” She pushed her nose up under his jaw, kissed his tender skin. “Wouldn’t you rather I left this city? Returned to Starkhaven with you?”

Sebastian shut his eyes against the surge of hope and swallowed it down with a groan. “More than anything, _mo cridhe_. Tonight, I—” He had to push the words out. She must already know the depth of his devotion, but he had to say it aloud. “I wanted to wait until we were wed, but...”

“But there’s no guarantee of a tomorrow.”

Sebastian’s arm tightened around her. There would be no more talk of viscounts and princes. For now, he would cherish that they were simply Sebastian and Charlie, and that they could find these stolen moments together.

**Author's Note:**

> This one initially had an E rating, but I cut the middle scene way way down. I wasn’t sure what you, my dear readers, wanted from this fic series. Should I put the missing, steamy scene back in? 
> 
> I only have betas for my professional work; they’d all be confused if I posed this question to them (and possibly mortified, lol)


End file.
